Page 13

Chapter Ten

Ashland

I wake up to Penny snoring with half of her body hanging out of the bed. Last night we drank too much even though it was a Tuesday. Happy hangover day to me. I unloaded on her about Koda and all of the bullshit that keeps happening with him. She just had a smug little smile on her face. It was almost impossible to turn the conversation back to the internship. I think she was glad that I’ve gotten out of my head a little thanks to dick.

I check my phone and there are no missed calls, but I have one text. It’s from Micropenis of all people.

I have practice at 1. Come to the field when you wake up.

No. Nope. No. I will not do that. I am not Koda fucking Armory’s puppy. He can fuck me in the library. Slam me up against the dock at the Weekender. He can act all high and mighty at happy hour. But I draw the fucking line at telling me what to do with my free time. I’m not coming to a practice field where people can see me sitting there and assume I’m pining after him, which is probably what he wants. Anything with him attracts attention and that’s the last thing I need.

I groan as I get out of bed and change into an old band tee that isn’t mine with a pair of leggings. Penny will be asleep until two at the very least, and I have a test at the end of the week that I need to study for.

I trudge over to the library in the center of campus and head to the second floor to find one of the last spots left in the center. I hate being open like this, but I don’t have any options. The time passes by. I’m faintly aware of my phone buzzing as I rub my wary eyes. The clock on the wall says it’s four in the afternoon, and I realize I haven’t eaten at all and that I don’t know the difference between punctuation and verbs anymore. My phone buzzes again, and I yawn.

“What the fuck, Ash?” A deep voice aggressively attacks me. None other than Koda stands over me, his face red with rage as he shouts in the library getting everyone’s attention. They’re all so in awe of him that no one bothers shushing him. He’s still in his practice gear. He has his pants on with his shoulder pads and cleats. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat. It looks like he came straight here from practice, and with how much heat and rage he’s exuding it must be exactly what happened.

“I-I was studying,” I manage to croak. I don’t owe this fucker anything, yet I’m ready to give him whatever the fuck he wants. I can tell he’s pissed, and that’s the version of him that seems to fuck me. It’s to die for.

“I told you to come to practice.”

My balls grow back suddenly. If he wants to make a fucking scene we can make a scene.

“I’m not going to your stupid fucking football practice. It’s a pointless sport. Some of us are in here trying to learn real world skills instead of accumulate concussions to retire with one brain cell at forty-two.”

The atmosphere in the library is charged with electricity. Everyone around me is shocked. Some of them are disturbed, but I can see the look of pleasure on some of those faces. My comment is about to get me royally fucked, but it was worth it. Koda slams my laptop shut and shoves my books into my bag. A grin full of malice spreads across his face, and now I wonder if the comment was too far.

He leans down and growls low in my ear. “Let’s go before you say something you might regret.”

He tosses my bag over his massive shoulder and stalks away, leaving me to chase after him. I’m short and actually have to run to catch up. I shout slurs and try to figure out how to fight him, but he fucking ignores me. Koda doesn’t stop until we get to the entrance to the locker rooms under the stadium. I don’t know what to do so I just lean against the wall, sucking in breaths, and pull out my phone. With a quick text I let Cole know I’m not going to make it to The Roost when he gets off.

Koda clears his throat. When I look up, he’s holding open the door and points inside. With a sigh I enter the dark hallway and follow him. The closer we get to the locker rooms the louder it gets. Guys are laughing and joking around.

Koda stalks in with me behind him and the place falls silent. I train my eyes to the ground out of respect in case any of them are naked, but it looks like whatever post practice rituals they partake in are over. Everyone is fully clothed except for Noah. The second he sees us he scrambles to find a shirt. I can feel all eyes on us as we pass through rows of guys. There isn’t one murmur between them. We finally reach a locker that says K. Armory on a plaque. In fact, the entire locker room screams dignity. It’s more like a lounge than a place for sweaty boys.

A door to the side flies open revealing a dude standing there in a towel.

“What’s everyone looking…” He follows the gazes to me and practically flings himself back through the door to get away.

Koda tosses my bag onto an ornate table surrounded by lavish chairs upholstered with velvet. “This is where you’ll do your homework.”

“Here?” I look around the place quickly. Two guys are sitting on a set of bean bags five feet away pretending to still play whatever video game they were raging on before we walked in.

“Yeah, here. Better than the library.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond before he heads over to his locker, starts to tear his gear off, and meticulously organizes it. I’m so annoyed I can’t help but argue, already forgetting the situation in the library.

“The library is fucking quiet,” I point out.

Koda looks around slowly. “Sounds pretty quiet in here to me.”

“They’re afraid of whatever the fuck this is.” I gesture around him wildly. Each person I try to lock eyes with looks away. Koda rolls his eyes and reaches inside of his locker, yanking out a pair of expensive headphones.

“Here. They’re noise canceling. Now go sit down.” Then he heads through the door to the showers leaving me standing there in one of the most awkward situations of my life.

I don’t even know how to respond. I just sit at the table and try to connect my phone to the Bluetooth of the headphones. Since the drama seems to be over, the guys start talking again.

“Well, quite the show.” Alexi slides into the chair across from me. “Didn’t realize it was that serious. Guess I never stood a chance.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Pretty sure he's hated me since birth.” I'm about to smash the headphones because they won’t connect.

“He does not hate you,” Alexi snorts. “He brought you into the fucking locker room to study.”

“Yes, a room full of dudes who don’t want me here,” I glower.

He lowers his voice. “Nah, they’re just confused. Koda never loses his shit like he did today. He’s the most put together mother fucker I know, and today? He had a meltdown.”

Alexi’s back straightens as I let out a frustrated scream. Large hands swipe the headphones out of my mine along with my phone. Koda sinks into the seat next to me, and he is suddenly the pillar of calm. It takes him all of five seconds to connect them to my phone and open my music app to press play. He puts them over my ears for me. I chance a look at Alexi. He’s sitting there with a smug smile on his face and mouths ‘I told you’. I don’t know what the fuck he thinks he told me, but this whole thing is so bizarre that I just open my laptop and textbook and try to figure out where I left off.

A few bowls of snacks show up around the table, and I notice more of the guys sit around us and spread out their books. I feel the tap of an eraser on my hand, and I jump. Koda’s head snaps up, and he glares at the kid who decided to bother me like he'll skin him alive.

The kid clears his throat a few times. “You’re in my programming class, aren’t you? Bond?” I realize he looks familiar. He was the clipboard guy at the first football party. I’ve never noticed him in class.

"1301?"

“Yeah,” he says with relief. “Would you be able to help me?”

Everyone that has decided to stick around is intensely watching.

I follow his gaze to where a group of guys that are absorbed in our exchange are seated at another table. “Yeah, of course."

“So, uh, we all kinda need help." He gives me a sheepish grin.

“She’s not your fucking tutor, Smith,” Koda snarls.

Just to spite him I grab my book, stand up, and head over to the table, squeezing myself between two guys that must be linebackers. I spend twenty minutes explaining the concepts while Koda broods. By the time I finish, he has packed all of my stuff back into my bag and is hovering near the door with Alexi.

“I guess that’s my cue,” I sigh.

“Could we maybe exchange numbers,” Smith whispers. “We have a hard time with this stuff, and I dunno if you’ll be around…” he trails off.

“Yeah, of course.” I lean over and write mine on his notes quickly, give him a polite smile, and meet up with Koda.

Koda’s jaw is tight and he glares down with coal black eyes. “You gave him your number."

“With the way you scare the shit out of everyone here, I doubt any of them will text me unless it truly is homework related. Plus, I won’t be here long so they’ll need help when I’m gone.”

Koda stops in his tracks and balls his fists. “Why would you say that?”

“Say what?” I blink at him.

“Talking like you’ll be gone.”

This entire situation is so fucking strange. Koda is acting like a total weirdo and it’s unnerving.

“When you’re finally bored and done with whatever weird thing you’re doing here.” I toss my hair.

He advances on me, pressing me against the wall with his chest on mine, and chuckles darkly. “The rule was clear. I told you to answer me when I text you.”

“I’m not your fucking puppy dog,” I growl.

He lowers his face to mine. “There will be consequences to your actions. It’ll be easier the sooner you understand that.”

“You’re a controlling psycho.”

He stands up tall, readjusting my backpack on his shoulder. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

Alexi comes around the corner. “Can I get a ride?”

“No.” Koda shoves through the double doors. I follow behind him, because I really don’t know what else to do.

Outside in the parking lot is a sports car dripping with narcissism. It’s abnormally shiny, as if it was detailed twenty minutes ago. Koda holds the passenger door open for me. The inside is also meticulously clean, nothing like Penny’s car. I stand there and glare at him.

“Get in the car, Ashland."

I squirm. “I’d rather not.”

“It’s not fucking optional.”

“Everything is optional,” I smirk.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s had enough of my shit. Maybe all it will take is me being a bitch and he’ll leave me alone. The sex is great, but this isn’t sex. I honestly don’t know what the fuck this is.

His eyes flash with amusement. “Fine. Here are your options. You get in the car, and you’ll orgasm. You make me do it for you, and I’ll fucking ruin it.”

My mind is scrambled. I’m like a dude, thinking about sex every four seconds. I’m probably an addict at this point. Since I had sex with Koda the very first time, I haven’t been able to give myself anything nearly as satisfying. I’ve just been giving up. He can tell I’m trying to sort out my options, but ultimately, I choose orgasm.

I sit in the stupid car and cross my arms angrily as he slams the door shut, storing our bags in the trunk. For as crazy as he's acting, he's kind of been a gentleman. It’s kinda nice having someone be nice to me, but it’s also terrifying. When someone is nice, what they want in return usually isn’t. It usually comes at a cost.

I’m not really a fan of cars, if I’m being honest. It’s why I ride my board when I can. The Jeep to the Weekender was fine, but a sports car makes me anxious. He gets in behind the wheel.

“I fucking hate this car,” I mumble.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes as he starts it. “Then what do you suggest I fucking drive?” he asks haughtily.

“Something that doesn’t scream egotistical asshole,” I bite. He smirks and reverses, flinging me into the dashboard. “What the hell?”

“Put on your seatbelt,” he commands. He doesn’t have to fucking tell me twice. He obviously has a death wish.

I pull out my phone and connect it to the Bluetooth. The speaker beeps, and I snicker before I start tapping away.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you a playlist,” I say innocently.

He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders. I just keep clicking away, adding the worst songs I know.

He runs his tongue over his top teeth. “Well, are you going to fucking play it?”

His fingers tap the shifter as if he has to do something to keep from lunging at me. I stare at him and press play. At first, the acoustic guitar starts strumming through the surround sound, and he purses his lips. The first few lyrics make him roll his eyes. I already knew he probably hated pop punk, but he has no clue what’s to come. The second the flute plays, tears are welling in my eyes as I try to keep from bursting out laughing. His are trained on the road, and his jaw is tense.

“Do you like it?” I ask hopefully, choking down a laugh.

He swallows, trying to find the words. When he doesn’t say anything I start singing, like this is my goddamn anthem. I think if Koda could, he would fucking drive us into a building.

“You have a good voice,” he finally says.

“Awe, thank you.” I settle back into my seat, waiting. The moment the song starts playing again, Koda’s hand tightens on the shifter.

“It’s on repeat, Ash.” He says it like he’s hopeful I’m an idiot.

I feign incredulity. “Well, yeah, it’s my favorite song.”

“This is your favorite song?” he grits out.

“Mhm.” It’s all I can do to keep myself from having a laughing conniption fit.

The scenery changes into Riverside, but he drives straight by his place. And the song plays again.

“Where are we going?” I'm realizing that I have no clue what is actually going on.

He finally looks at me with his eyes squinted. “You said it’s your favorite song, Ashland. So we’re gonna listen to it over and over and over again.”

That was not what I fucking expected, but I don’t back down to anything. So I turn it louder. And Koda keeps driving in circles. For an hour. The song is tattooed on my brain at this point. He reaches over and turns it down looking so relaxed, like this isn’t war.

“Tired of it?” I ask.

“Nope. Just wondered if you were hungry.”

I am. I’m fucking starving. He must be, too, or else he wouldn’t have mentioned it. I believe Koda would've driven around for the rest of his life if it meant he won the unspoken challenge.

“Yeah, I guess. I haven’t eaten today,” I huff.

“What?” he asks me, alarmed.

I shrug. “I forgot."

We stop at a stop sign, and he turns to face me. “You forgot to eat?”

“It happens. I was busy. Then some psycho forced me into his car and drove around for hours to listen to the worst song ever.”

“Hm, I thought it was pretty good.”

And he’s won. Just like that he has fucking won.

“I fucking hate you.” I move to the next song, and my latest torture is ‘Barbie Girl’.

He takes it in stride. “What do you like to eat?”

“Everything.”

We pull up to some Chinese place and park. I make zero move to leave.

“You coming?”

I play on my phone. “No.”

He doesn’t press the issue. “What do you want?”

“Dumplings.”

“I’ll be back.”

He just leaves me there with the car running. A few people say hi to him, trying to talk to Koda fucking Armory, the stupid football player. I sink into the seat, even though no one can see me through the blackout windows. Penny texts me making me laugh. She’s watching my location.

Why are you at the Chinese place without me???

It takes me a minute to think of a response. There’s no point in hiding what I’m doing.

Football Chance kidnapped me.

My phone rings with a video call, and I answer. The only thing on the screen is a sandwich. A sad, cold sandwich.

“Do you see this?” Penny whines. “Do you?” She shoves the camera closer before turning it around to face her.

“It wasn’t my choice!” I defend myself, watching the door.

“You’re out on a date with Football Chance, eating gourmet Chinese, and I’m eating this stale sandwich.”

“This is McDonalds at best, and it’s not a date. I’m sitting in the car. I told you I was kidnapped, and you’re worried about your fucking sandwich?”

She snorts. “Kidnapped by dick doesn’t count.”

“He, like, tracked me down, Penny. He told me to come to football practice, and when I didn’t show up he fucking tracked me down and made me come to the locker room to study. Then forced me into his car.”

She picks at the sandwich. “Still not seeing the problem. That’s, like, your dream scenario. You love that controlling shit.”

Penny knows me too well. I see my attraction now.

“You’re going on cunt probation,” I grumble.

“You’re just mad. Are you coming home tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She takes a bite of her sandwich and starts talking with her mouth full. “Dicknapping, duh.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Mhm. Well it sure—”

My phone fucking powers down. I want to scream. When Koda gets back into the car he sets a bag filled with takeout boxes in the back and glances at me.

“What? Got tired of Ashland’s best hits?”

I shake my phone. “It died.”

“I’ve got a charger.” He pulls it out of the console and hands it to me.

It takes two minutes for my phone to turn on as we drive, and the music automatically starts to play as soon as I open the app. I feel fucking defeated. I switch it to Avril Lavigne and sulk.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” he asks.

“I’m not.”

“Twenty minutes ago you were torturing me with some flute song, and now you’re playing Avril Lavigne.”

“I’m surprised you even know who that is.”

“Alexi had a thing for her in middle school.” I reach over to turn it off, and he slaps my hand away. “Leave it.”

“You hate this,” I point out.

“I don’t hate it. I never said that.”

“Whatever. Can we just fuck so I can go home?”

He pulls in front of his condo and turns the car off, but he doesn’t move. “I’m sorry.”

I look over at him. I don’t like the feeling I get. It’s a fucking trap. Apologies always are.

He glances at me in his peripheral vision. “I mean it. I’m sorry for earlier." He lays his head back on the headrest. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“Okay.” Me and Penny don’t even apologize to each other. This day just keeps getting weirder and fucking weirder.

“Okay.” He grabs the bag of food, while I sit there stunned, and opens my door. I don’t know what to do other than to follow him inside.

The place is still pristine.

“Are you a clean freak or something?” I watch him organize the cartons on the counter. It’s so particular. This is the kind of shit serial killers do.

He stops and takes a deep breath. “I don’t say anything about your obsessive need to be a fucking bitch, so just let me do it, okay?”

I scratch my head and lean against the cabinets, watching this strange thing happening in front of my eyes. “Are you OCD?”

“No,” he growls.

I don my best Australian accent. “And here, in his natural habitat, is the fascinating Chance. They’re pretty common at Cassium, but this one is a right—”

“Are you fucking narrating?”

“Yeah, I’m bored. Where the dick at?”

Koda’s brain must be full of oxygen because it’s about the millionth deep breath he has taken in my presence today. The sun is starting to set outside, filling the space with warm light.

“Are you a sex addict?”

The question isn’t really surprising, but I glare at him because it’s the bitchy thing to do.

“What?” he laughs. “You’re going to ask about my compulsive disorder, and I can’t ask about your sex addiction?”

“So you do have OCD?”

“No." He shakes his head. “OCPD. Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder.”

“Now it all makes sense. You could have told me. I’ve been waiting for you to cut my hands off and display them around your house.”

“Why would I want to display your hands?” he asks in horror.

“Aren’t serial killers OCD or something?”

“You think that an OCD serial killer wants to display hands?”

“I dunno." I shrug. “I’m not the serial killer here.”

“It’s just a personality disorder." He returns to his weird routine. “I just like things done the right way.”

“There is no right way to do things.”

“Not for someone like you,” he scoffs.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I snatch a piece of shrimp out of one of the boxes, and now I think he might cut my hand off.

“Could you not use a fork?”

“Nope.”

“It wasn’t a bad thing. Not exactly.”

“You’re still making it sound bad,” I point out.

“I just don’t understand it, is all. You live in disarray.”

“I’m surprised you even know that word.”

“So, now that I’ve told you my shit. Are you a sex addict or not?”

“I didn’t think we were supposed to talk.”

“You’re great at asking questions, but when it comes to answering you divert the conversation.”

I roll my eyes and sit up onto the counter, which doesn’t seem to bother him. “I love sex. People are allowed to.”

“Some people love it too much.”

I blow my hair out of my face. “It’s how I communicate.”

“Fair enough." He nods, grabbing plates from a cabinet. “Did a therapist tell you that?”

“She did. Among other things. It’s not my fault that I’m overtly sexual or something. Circumstances. Blah, blah, blah.”

“But you seem to communicate just fine with Penny.”

“Penny is my best friend. Dick is an object.”

“So you’re objectifying men?”

“If that’s how you want to take it, you can.”

“What about Cole? Is that how you communicate with Cole?”

I laugh. “Ah, the root of the question. You don’t care if I’m an addict as long as I don’t fuck Cole.”

“Have you?”

“Are you jealous?” His jaw tightens, but he stays silent. “I don’t have sex with Cole. I don’t communicate with him either.”

He pulls two plates from a cabinet. “Then why does he hang around?”

“Not sure, really. I treat him like shit, but he never goes away.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a blunt and a lighter. He looks at me, sort of angry, sort of curious. “Gonna bother you?”

“No, that shit is just bad for you.”

“Everything is bad for us. Y’all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.” He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Alaska Young?” Still nothing. “Looking for Alaska? The book?”

“Not much of a reader. I like non-fiction.”

“Figures.” I light the blunt and take a deep breath, blowing it into the air. “So, why did you kidnap me?”

“Is that what you told Penny?”

“Yeah.”

He smirks. “Figured if I’m gonna fuck you, I might as well feed you.”

“Good, cause I don’t take payment in cum.”

"Do you even hear the way you speak? Fucking filthy.”

I lick my lips. “Oh, I love being filthy.”

“Slut,” he says under his breath.

I grin. “It only took you three hours, but you finally did it."

“Did what?”

“Called me a slut. Must've been hard for you to wait that long.”

“It should've been,” he mutters. “Why do you like being called a slut?”

“Keeps ‘em confused.”

“You’re like Rumple-fucking-Stiltskin.”

I giggle. “Penny says that.”

“What do you want?” He gestures to the food. It’s like a fucking fest. I grab a pair of chopsticks and the carton of dumplings. He takes it from me and puts it on a plate, then hands it back. “You can use chopsticks?”

“What? You think because I’m white trash I don’t know shit about the world?” I sit crisscross applesauce on the counter.

He heaps some stuff onto a plate and leans opposite of me. “Why do you always say I think the worst of you?”

“You act like it,” I say between bites.

“I’m just surprised I guess. Where did you learn?”

“Japan.”

“You went to Japan?”

“Yeah, I’ve been twice.”

“Did you like it?”

“The first time? Not really. The second time was great. Penny and I backpacked Asia over the summer.”

“That seems on brand for you two.”

“Yeah.” I smile to myself. “It is. We’ve been backpacking somewhere every summer.”

“Is that why you were upset that she’s doing the internship?”

I take my time chewing my food. “No, that’s during the spring. I think she should. It’s why I sent them her portfolio.”

“Wait.” Koda sets his plate down. “You sent her shit in for the internship?”

I nod. “It’s an amazing opportunity, and she never would've done it herself.”

“Won’t she be mad when she finds out?”

“She’ll find out eventually, but she won’t be mad. She’s the one who told Prince that I did my own tattoos. Then I got the apprenticeship. We support each other.”

“Wow.” Koda starts eating again.

“So why exactly did you apologize to me earlier?”

He stares at his spoon. A fucking travesty, really. “You didn’t respond.”

“And? That’s me as an entire person. Penny is lucky if she gets a text back.”

“I told you to respond.”

“My name isn’t Stacy. I’m not a groupie. I don’t give a fuck if the president texts me to come hide in a bunker. I won’t do it. I really didn’t think you’d track me down in the fucking library.”

“And I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry about that. Not the rest, though.”

I finish the dumplings and scoot the plate across the counter. “Is this your first time apologizing?”

He washes his plate in the sink. “It might be.”

“Ya know, we’re just supposed to be having sex,” I point out.

“I know. We still are.”

“That usually doesn’t include talking about sex addiction and Japan.”

“It’s called friends with benefits.”

“That sounds murky at best. I have friends. I don’t fuck them.”

“Look, Alexi and Penny are friends, and that’s clearly not going to stop. Hanging out with you at happy hour wasn’t that bad. I get bored.”

“How? You have, like, a million people dying to spend time with you. You’re Koda fucking Armory, or whatever.”

“You don’t give a shit.”

“No, I don’t,” I agree.

“I just mean that you don’t like me. You don’t think I’m cool.”

That makes me fucking giggle. “Oh, well in that case. No, I don’t.”

He hovers next to me, trapping me against the counter. “Your playlist fucking sucked.”

“Talk dirty to me.”

His eyes are dark, and I want his teeth in my skin. “It made me hate you a little more.”

“Perfect foreplay, Armory. I give you an A plus.” I grin.

He grabs my shorts and yanks them down with my underwear. “Good, because I don’t have the patience to edge you tonight.”

I’m already wet, and he knows it. He doesn’t even have to touch me to have figured it out. Koda slides me to the edge of the counter and pulls his cock out, running the head between my slit before starting the war for dominance. I suck in a sharp breath, and he uses that moment to push inside.

“Condom?” I manage to ask.

“I told you we aren’t doing that shit.”

“What if I have chlamydia?”

He doesn’t even hesitate, just keeps going deeper. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“Oh, I do,” I moan.

“To answer your question." He grits his teeth. "I got tested. I’m clean.” He pulls me flush to his body and starts fucking me on the counter. He doesn’t hit me, but he’s not gentle about it.

“Good, ‘cause I…I…same,” I stumble through the words.

He slaps his hand over my mouth. “The only words I want to hear are about how fucking good I feel when I’m inside of you. Got it?”

I nod furiously before my head falls back. He pulls up my shirt and takes one of my nipples into his mouth and sucks, which makes me arch my back.

I shouldn’t be thinking while Koda is inside of me. It’s the whole point of sex, but I am. My mind decides right now is the time to begin an existential crises. It’s like there are two versions of me. One is preoccupied with Koda, and the other is wondering how the fuck I ended up here. Those two versions snap back together when Koda bites down on my nipple. I squeal but in the best way. I swear he’s in my stomach. His grip tightens as he starts fucking me wildly. I can hardly keep it together. I’m going to orgasm, but he hasn’t told me not to.

“I’m…You feel…too good,” I moan.

“If you do that I’m gonna come,” Koda warns.

It’s like he’s handed me the keys to the kingdom. I start riding his cock, putting him into some state of shock and feverish bliss.

“Holy shit,” he groans. “Don’t stop. Fuck, that feels so good. Fuck yes, baby girl, just like that.”

“Don’t come,” I purr.

“That’s not…Fuck…Ashland. Seriously.” For once he’s trying to fight it, but I know he won’t last. I can feel it, and it’s fucking powerful. “I can’t…If you keep…I can’t…”

“Do. Not. Come,” I demand.

His entire body is shaking. Let him squirm for once. I know I’ll pay for it later. I want to come so badly, but this is going to be worth it.

“Koda,” I moan, riding him harder.

He sweating, fighting it.

“Fuck, Koda, you feel so fucking…good. You're so deep,” I pant. I almost back out. Almost. But I’m a bitch, and I’ve got to stick to the plan.

He’s fucking helpless. I see it in his eyes. “Ash.”

The second he says it I slide off of him, and he’s too fucked up to argue because he’s already coming. My orgasm is raging through my body, and it hurts. It really does. By ruining Koda, I ruined myself. He comes all over my thighs.

“Please, baby girl, please,” he begs, trying to just get the tip back in, but I tilt my hips so he can’t. Looking at the mess of Koda is like seeing my own masterpiece.

When he finishes he looks up at me, gasping for breath. “You bitch.”

“Come again.” I push him away with my foot and clean myself while he watches, still in an angry stupor. I grab two of the cartons that are still full, and shove them into my bag.

“For Penny.” I wink, and I leave him standing there angry, confused, and needing more.

I belong to me.